Alpenstock

Day 162: There is no denying that the spirit of exploration and adventure runs thickly in my veins even though my exploits are somewhat tamer now than they were twenty years ago. Like the bear who went over the mountain, I go to see what I can see, and like the bear discovered, it's usually nothing more than the other side of the mountain, "usually" being the operative word. Those few times I've discovered a geologic phenomenon, a new path, a rare wildflower or a bird for my Life List have been enough to spur me into other adventures on the odd chance of finding something I haven't seen before.

Despite the frets of friends and recommendations by authoritative bodies, I hike alone. You can't experience wilderness with someone chatting in your ear. When a bit of tree bark appears to move upward, you have to freeze in place instantaneously without worrying about someone running into you from behind, or you'll never confirm that yes, it really was a Brown Creeper. Sure, there are risks in hiking solo (and especially at my age), but they have to be balanced against the rewards. I generally let someone know where I'm headed, although all too often, that's no guarantee that I'll keep to the flight plan I've filed.

Today, I borrowed an alpenstock from the office and with no particular goal in mind, wound up on the snow-covered Eagle Peak trail. My time was occupied in close observation of lichens and sporophytes magnified by water droplets, heedless of the rain. It might not have been the most exciting adventure I've ever had, but it was nevertheless quite fulfilling, as only time in the solitude of the forest can be.